Your phone is not your drinking buddy

An iPhone will function after being splashed with half a shot of Four Roses Small Batch bourbon, but not after swimming in a pool of Three Floyds Alpha King pale ale. How do I know this? Because I was a compulsive phone-on-bar person.

Drink, coaster, phone: It was my holy trinity. What if I got a text? What if someone favorited my Tweet about my sad desk lunch? My phone could be ALL the way in my purse—virtually miles away!

But I'm changing my ways. Not only am I sick of a sticky phone case, but tethering my phone to my drink was rude to the friends I was out with. Researchers have coined a term for this sort of indifference: electronic displays of insensitivity, or EDI. A survey put out by bestselling author Joseph Grenny found that 90 percent of respondents think people should not check social media profiles in public.

There are exceptions to putting away your phone, of course, if you're texting a friend directions to a bar or waiting for a date to call and say she's on her way. But otherwise, phones belong firmly in pockets and purses.

Forcing myself to keep my phone in my purse or jacket was as hard, I'd imagine, as weaning a child from a teething ring. I generally managed not to cry, but I did have phantom need-to-touch-my-phone twitches. I took deep breaths. The tough moments pass.

If you're struggling even harder than I am, you might be interested in the work of a Brazilian art director who recently designed a prototype for a beer glass that only stands if placed on top of your phone. So yes, your phone is technically still on the bar, but at least you're not texting through an entire IRL conversation. Baby steps.

Since cutting my phone umbilical cord, I find myself much more engaged in the conversations I'm having (which is the whole reason I went out to a bar with someone, right?). No flicking my eyes over to my phone every time a Facebook notification pops up. No text vibrations interrupting someone's story.

Having our phones out next to our drinks subtly conveys disinterest with present company. I felt guilty sending my lovely, hilarious friends the message that they were cool and all but OH STOP RIGHT THERE I have a new Instagram follower. And when I've met up for drinks with a friend who puts his phone screen down on the bar, I'm immediately suspicious. Who's texting you? What's with the secrecy, MR. BOND?

I've even rediscovered eye contact, that magic communication signal that existed between prehistoric times and the advent of the Blackberry. It's pleasant. Y'all have some pretty eyes, Chicago. Let's take them off our screens.

Kate Bernot is RedEye's nightlife reporter. If you catch her with her phone on the bar, you can penalize her with a shot of malort. kbernot@tribune.com @kbernot